Page 40 of The Hive Queen

Pen gives herself a shake. “Flint got some information out of her before she bailed. The cases in Clearhelm aren’t the only ones. Meredith is working on re-creating what they captured on video.”

“Couldn’t she have just cloned Amalia’s cell phone?” I’ve seen enough of what Meredith can do to know it should be a walk in the park for the computer genius.

Pen gives me a dour stare. “If it were an option, it would have been done. But Amalia wasn’t always a lone wolf. We taught her all the tricks.”

“How did she take Flint turning down her offer?” At Pen’s raised brow, I let out a long sigh. “Do I need to apologize again for my moment of doubt that one of you would take a job to steal this case out from under me?”

Her expression softens. “We do have a history of withholding information from you. And occasionally working against you. I understand it will take some time to fully earn your trust.”

My touch on the small of her back draws her a couple of inches closer without crossing the line into impropriety in front of the correctional facility. “I do trust you, but I also know that you’ll work against me if our interests conflict. And I’ve also noticed that, in the last several months, you’ve made sure our interestsdon’tconflict. I appreciate that.”

The tension eases from her muscles, and her hands come out of her pockets. “I’ve been thinking—”

“Hey! There’s no loitering out here!” shouts an aggressive voice from the entrance to the detention center.

I glance up the short flight of stairs to see a guard glaring down at us. He stands with his hip cocked and one hand on the butt of his gun, though he’s smart enough to leave the safety strap locked.

My hand falls from Pen’s back to sweep my jacket to one side, exposing the badge clipped to my belt. “We’re not loitering, we’re on our way in. Captain Gavin Sharpe, from the Joint Task Force of Paranormal Investigations. You have a prisoner we need to interview.”

The man’s eyes narrow on us with suspicion. “You run that freak show on the outskirts of town?”

Anger slithers through me. “That I do.”

“Fantastic. Maybe you can take some of the freaks here with you when you leave.” With a disgusted shake of his head, the guard disappears back into the building.

“Well, this should be fun.” Pen rolls her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “I can already feel the inter-departmental cooperation.”

“Who knows? Maybe they really do have freaks in there.” I gesture at the stairs in front of us. “After you.”

Her lips twitch. “Such a gentleman.”

Inside the detention center, we find a small waiting room with hard plastic chairs that have seen several decades of use. Duct tape covers cracks on more than a few of them, and those close to the window are sun-bleached a creamsicle-color in stark contrast to the vibrant orange tone of those left in the shade.

Past the unwelcoming sitting area, a tiled half-wall blocks access to the cells, with double-paned, bulletproof glass running its length to protect the guards on duty.

A thick, steel door to the right displays a sign stating:Authorization Required. The smaller sign below warns:No Weapons Past This Point.

Good thing we saw that coming and locked ours in the car. I don’t trust the people here not to tamper with the weapons usfreakscarry.

The word rankles more than it should. It’s not even a new one specific to Others. I don’t even care what people call me, but I don’t enjoy knowing that this is how other law enforcement agents talk about my squad, nor do I appreciate the blatant disrespect for me as their captain.

When the specialty cells were built beneath the JTFPI headquarters, we received a lot of pushback from the city-funded detention center. They didn’t want to give up any of their revenue by allowing us to hold our own prisoners.

But it made no sense to retrofit their facilities when we were building ours from the ground up, literally. Our precinct was built on top of the site of an exploded long-term care facility.

There was nothing else around when our doors opened, but the city soon stretched out around us, eager to provide services where there were none available.

And we don’t make money from holding prisoners. The jails beneath my precinct are rolled into our overall funding. It’s better for usnotto have prisoners to feed.

But it doesn’t stop the assumptions from outsiders.

That word rankles, too. Outsider. There shouldn’t be anusandthemwhen it comes to enforcing the law. We should all be working together. But that’s an uphill battle I’ll be fighting for the rest of my life. Which will be a very long time.

The same guard who yelled at us sits at the desk behind the bulletproof glass. He slides a clipboard under the narrow gap left between where the desk ends and the protective glass begins. “You need to sign in. Who are you here to steal from us?”

I scrawl my name across the page before passing it to Pen. “We’re here to speak to Josephine Domingues, age twenty-three. And we’re only here to interview her, unless you have reason to think she’s an Other?”

“Oh, the crazy one.” He takes the clipboard back from Pen. “Sorry you wasted your time, but she’s refusing to speak to any more law enforcement. Only people she’ll talk to are shrinks and lawyers. She’s aiming for an insanity plea. So, unless you have a warrant…?”

---